The Distant Garden
The road to the Abbey of Saint Jude’s is not a road in the way you have known roads, for it is less a path of compacted earth and stone and more a bruised vein pulsing through the grey, wet fabric of the moor, a long, thin scar that the wind seems to lick and clean every time you walk it, and you walk it because the letter said you must, and the letter was written in an ink that looked like...
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